A Matter of Choice
by corvusdraconis
Summary: [SS/HG] AU/CRACK: Molly Weasley just wanted to give fate a little push because Ronald and Hermione belonged together. Magic did not agree. (COMPLETE)


**Summary:** [SS/HG] AU/CRACK: Molly Weasley just wanted to give fate a little push because Ronald and Hermione belonged together. Magic did not agree.

**Beta Love:** Publishing unsupervised.

**A/N:** The Dragon and the Rose is under the weather. This story is for her get-well-soon.

* * *

**A Matter of Choice**

**A Short Story by Corvus Draconis**

_Choose your life's mate carefully. From this one decision will come 90 percent of all your happiness or misery._

_H. Jackson Brown, Jr_

"I can't believe you did this, mum!"

"Ron, dear, you two are meant for each other!"

"As friends, mum! As FRIENDS!"

"You kissed! That makes it more than friends!"

"Mum, I kissed her once, and that doesn't make a marriage!"

"It does if it's magically blessed!"

"It wasn't!"

"Of course it was!"

"Mum, I'm gay! I could no more marry Hermione than I could marry my own sister!"

"Whaa—"

Ron threw up his hands. "Look, I may not like the greasy old git, but if Hermione wants to live with him that's her business, mum. Not mine and definitely not yours! You turned him into— what the hell did you do, mum?"

"I— no, my son is not gay!"

"Mum, I've been trying to tell you—"

"Does this mean you and Harry—"

"What? Merlin, what do you take me for? He's my best mate!"

Molly let out a piercing scream as a taloned hand swiped in front of her, and a deep snarl shook the room.

"What happened to the lecture on tolerance, mum? How is this even— I can't even—" Ron threw up his arms, stepping back as the snarling beast that looked more demonic than beast threw himself against the enclosure again and again, snarling, foaming, and snapping.

"It was supposed to reveal the true face of love so Hermione would realise you were the one!" Molly blurted.

"Well you done botched that, mum! Does that look like the true face of love for anyone?! You trying to scare her to me?"

The snarling creature contained in the cell threw itself against the sides in a rage, seemingly wanting nothing more than to tear Molly to pieces.

"I'm a bloody Auror, Mum! This is Dark magic! I can't just look the other way!"

"You just need true love's kiss and the spell is broken!"

"You can't be serious— you are serious. Mum, are you trying to make everyone run screaming from our family? You already pestered Harry so much for grandchildren that he and Ginny broke up!"

"It's just temporary, dear. This will all work out!"

Ron rubbed his temples as other Aurors filed into the room. "I'm sorry, Mum. You're under arrest for Dark Magic interfering with free will and we're still counting how many counts of forced transfiguration!"

"Wha—" Molly gasped.

It was then and only then that Molly realised the only people who were still "people" were already married.

Snarling faces of various animals from rabbit, badger, crow, and otherwise stared back at her.

Molly promptly fainted.

* * *

_**Transfiguration Plague Hits Wizarding Britain**_

_Madam Molly Weasley was brought in front of the Wizengamot for setting lose a transfiguration love-conquers-all spell yesterday after almost the entirety of Wizarding Britain woke up looking like anthropomorphic animals._

_The only magicals spared were children under the age of seventeen and couples that were already married._

_The exit-clause for the transfiguration appears to be either true-love's-kiss or being married._

_A curious side-effect of the spell seems to be that highly-compatible people seem to share the same transformation of species, whatever that may be._

_The Ministry is currently working on a counter-spell for the transfiguration plague, and in the meantime, a number of citizens have had to be kept in holding cells for their own (and other's) safety due to the dangerous nature of their transformation._

* * *

"I mean, we know my mum was a little mental after Fred's death, but—" Ron just cradled his head in his hands. "Ginny is freaking out, mate. She's a bloody armadillo. Like— the Texan kind. Long snout, tail, plate-things."

Harry Potter, Auror and all around annoyed wizard, had his head thunked against his desk. "You know, Luna feels like we missed out on something special."

"Being cursed is special?"

"You know Luna."

"Okay, there is that, but—" Ron sighed. "I've never been so glad to be married in my life. I guess I should thank Charlie for putting me on that blind date."

Harry snorted. "Hell of a way to come out of the closet, mate."

Ron sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have used Hermione as my beard and all, but— I never thought mum would do that."

"Mate, no one thinks their mum is going to curse Britain with a true-love transfiguration curse." Harry rubbed his temples. "I'm just glad most of the Aurors are already married. Even if that meant pushing up the wedding date to now rather than later."

Harry sighed. "I guess I should thank Molly in a way. If she hadn't been so adamant about me having children so early, Ginny and I wouldn't have thrown in the towel. I mean Ginny wanted to play Quidditch, and I wanted to be an Auror. Neither of those things scream time for each other. I mean, I want kids, but I'd at least like to see the one I married more than a passing ship in the night."

Ron nodded, shaking his head. "I get it. I mean, Ginny was always your biggest fan, but— sometimes I think she wanted her own fame more— well any fame. You just wanted to settle down and have a normal life."

Harry nodded. "Now look at Britain— a bunch of sodding animals."

Ron rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "So, what are we going to do about Snape? He's terrorising the holding cells. Even the other more predatory ones can't compare to him."

Harry scrunched his face and tapped his fingers on the desk. "Well, it is Snape," he said grimly. "He was intimidating and vicious before he looked— well more intimidating and vicious."

Ron snorted. "I heard he almost tore Flitwick to pieces."

"To be fair, Flitwick is a rabbit."

Ron looked sheepish. "Right. But Snape— he's not even an animal, er, well you know."

Harry nodded. "I had a chat with Dumbledore's portrait. My dad and his mates— they did something horrible to Snape back when they were kids. For making my mum cry. Cursed him. Dumbledore managed to counter it enough to hide it, but—"

"Wait, mum didn't do that to him?"

"Well, she did," Harry said. "She kinda re-did it to him."

Ron slumped, his head bouncing down toward his chest in weariness. "The man is horrible. A true git, but—"

"No one deserves that, mate."

"Yeah," Ron said. "And 'Mione—"

"I should never have told her that he was still in love with my mum," Harry said, wincing. "Hell, I shouldn't have gloated to Voldemort about Snape's true allegiance either." Harry grunted. "What a right mess this is."

"Any word from 'Mione?"

Harry looked sombre. "Not since I told her—"

Ron snorted. "Mate, I swear to Merlin, everyone expects me to be the stupid one, running off half-cocked, but you didn't even give her a chance to ask him about it. You just let her think there was no chance at all. Is it any wonder she went to Australia to restore her parents and didn't bother to leave a forwarding address?"

"I hear she's like the top healer of the Australian magical hospital there… St Wallaby? Something…" Harry frowned. "Top of her class, as usual. Mungos has been trying to get her back, but—"

"You kinda made it so she doesn't have a reason to come back, especially with mum always trying to force me on her and then shun her when she said anything but yes."

Harry winced. "Not my brightest moment. I mean, I've tried to write her. Me. Writing. Hard to believe, right?"

"Yeah, I can't write her. Everytime I try, I just end up talking about Quidditch and the weather, and you know she hates that."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, she's not a fan. At least you aren't talking about food. As for Snape—"

Harry rubbed the space between his eyes. "There is so much rage there. I don't imagine them having a good conversation with him like this. Doesn't help I confessed to him that it was my fault. Now, everytime I even go into that cell block, he's practically breaking the wards to get at me."

Ron winced. "Your timing is pants, mate. I don't think mine is really much better, but at least I knew enough not to piss with Mione's emotional life. She's way too scary."

A hush came over the Aurory, and Harry and Ron looked up to see a dark, imposing figure standing in the entrance foyer.

A mane of bushy hair was the only recognisable feature past the black robes. A green healer-sash was the only splash of colour, for even her dragonhide boots were utterly black. Her brown eyes were dark with Occlusion—something that seemed eerily familiar, alien, and unnerving all in the same breath. Multiple rows of pins adorned her collar— one mastery after another in plain sight.

"Master Healer Granger," Savage greeted, extending a hand to her.

Hermione took his hand politely, but her eyes seemed to darken as the Occlumency deepened. She looked far older than they remembered her, the timing having passed without their noticing.

"Thank you for coming," Savage said. "We've run out of options. I'm sorry to bring you this far back."

Hermione was eerily silent for a minute. "I read the news. I am sorry that your hands must be full right now."

"The Ministry is working on a counter, but—" Savage sighed, rubbing his head. "Snape is a bit of a different case, as you'll see."

"I will, of course, do what I can, if anything," Hermione said. If she saw either Harry or Ron, she said nothing, nor did she move from where she was.

"Hermione," Harry greeted, walking up.

Hermione's eyes flicked over. "Harry." She did not move, her body utterly still as the dead.

"Hey, Mione," Ron greeted, walking over.

"Hello, Ron," Hermione said. "How are you and Patrick doing?"

"Good," Ron said. "Sorry I didn't write. I'm pants at it."

"I know," Hermione replied. "I appreciate you not writing to me about the weather and Quidditch."

Ron sighed. "Yeah." He shifted awkwardly. "You going to help Snape?"

Hermione's eyes flicked to the side. "If I can."

"But, he's cursed, not sick," Harry said, immediately regretting it as her eyes narrowed.

"We are all cursed, Harry Potter," she said. "It is only a matter of how."

She followed Auror Savage to the holding cells, as Harry tried to dampen the rising feeling of guilt as he hurried to attend.

* * *

The cell bars vibrated with the impact of the beast's body as he snarled at Harry, his claws swiping out of the space between the bars.

Foam and drool flecked from dagger-like teeth set in a muzzle that defied one species and seemed to settle on all of the above.

"You can't reason with him, 'ermione," Harry said, clutching his arm where Snape had managed to nick him with his claws.

The snarl on the beast's muzzle softened as Hermione stepped out from behind him.

She pulled off her gloves slowly, tucking them away. Her fingers gently curved around one of his taloned fingers. "Severus."

The beast's expression twisted in pain, and he shoved his head against the cell bars.

"Let me in with him."

"Are you mental?!"

Hermione turned, her eyes flashing amber. "I am far more than mental, Harry. Let me in his cell."

Harry flinched and fumbled with the wards as Savage used the keys. The cell opened, and Hermione walked into a tangle of claws, wings, fangs, and fur.

The darkness that was Snape engulfed her immediately, and Harry pulled his wand immediately thinking the worst.

"I'm here now," Hermione's voice whispered in the dark as his fangs flashed against her skin. "I'm here." Her pale hand touched his muzzle, gently brushing against his curled, snarling lips.

The beast let out a mournful croon, pulling her tight against himself, his wings wrapping around them both like a cocoon that shut out all light, all sight, and all prying eyes to his most intimate embrace.

* * *

It was hard to believe that he still loved Lily as much as she'd been told when the beast's warmth surrounded her even as his desperate, lonely croon whispered to her soul.

It answered her own loneliness— no matter how fleeting it was.

Come the cure, he wouldn't need her anymore.

It would be back to how it was— her pining for a love he could never share with her for he loved another.

But for now, he needed her, and she would be there for him. She would try desperately not to feel the pain of having to leave again.

He would be fine.

He was always fine.

It was just her that had come to desire more than what he could give.

She'd wanted more than friendship until Harry had shared what he'd seen in the memories. That was when she realised what she wanted could never be.

And to live so close and never be able to touch his heart was too painful to bear. She'd come to care too much.

Want too much.

Crave too much.

Yet, as the beast's muzzle pressed against her neck and his arms and wings pinned her to him, she could almost dream of a life with him, wrapped within his heated embrace— being the one that mattered to him.

The tears came hotly against her skin, and she cursed herself for being weak and emotional.

It wasn't his fault she imagined there could be something.

It wasn't his fault he was cursed.

Even as his tongue laved against her skin, sending thrills of pleasure through her lonely soul, she knew it was fleeting.

The beast couldn't help it.

Once the spell was broken, he would come to his senses again, and she wouldn't be the one he pined for.

Part of her wished, selfishly, that she had been in England and the magic had transformed her too. Perhaps, then, she might have seen if they were truly compatible.

Perhaps, they could have had a chance or at least she would have seen that her match wasn't him and laid her poor heart to rest.

But fate was as cruel as it was ironic in that she had been in Australia— spared the cursed change.

In his cocoon-like embrace, however, she felt safe and warm and needed. She took in his familiar musk-heavy scent of herbs and that otherly scent that was do distinctly his. It was a scent that lingered in her memory as poignant the scars she had gained throughout her life.

She had thought they had built a relationship after the war— something they could start a new life together— but Harry had shown her the memories of Snape's memories.

She'd seen how everything the man had done was to honour _her_ memory: Lily.

She wanted it to be different.

She wanted to matter to him, but she couldn't stand up to a woman's ghost.

She could never be beautiful and firey and so easily talented, having throngs of friends who believed she was great and compassionate and perfect.

She held no candle to Lily Evans, and when the curse was broken Severus Snape would be fine without her.

Tears slid down the side of her nose even as the beast's great, winged embrace tightened around her.

She could almost imagine it as forever, and that stung even more.

* * *

_She came back._

_She came back._

She was there in his arms, and it was all he could do to draw her close and keep her pressed against his heart.

He could feel his memories resurfacing out of the rage—

Memories of her.

Her scent, her touch— the most gentle feel of her fingers upon his skin.

For decades the only one who had filled his thoughts had been Lily, both in life and then her death, but Hermione—

Hermione!

She had become everything Lily couldn't be.

And he had struggled daily to tell her.

Struggled to be truthful to himself.

Struggled to be truthful to her—

That she had become everything.

Everything bright in his world.

Hopeful.

Beautiful.

And then she had left for Australia to help her parents and never returned.

Left before he could tell her.

Left before he could explain how much he wanted her, needed her.

Coward.

Needy.

Complicated.

Weak.

And then the curse returned— the gift from Potter and Black— his _true_ form from that moment in time onward. Albus had buried it deep along with so many of his other sins and failures no one could know.

And since then, his soul had longed for completion, that other part that fit against him. He'd thought it had always been Lily.

Who else could it have been.

Who else—

They had cursed him on September 19th, 1979—

The day Hermione Granger had been born.

And he had done such horrible things to her, treated her far worse than she had ever deserved, yet she still had forgiven him after the war.

She _was_ the other half to his lonely, abused soul.

And he had let her go without telling her how much she had become to him.

She had left so suddenly, her absence like a gaping crater in his life.

No tea together. Conversations on theory and spell-crafting. No arguing over potion efficacy— the softest brush her fingers against his when she handed him his tea.

One touch caused every cell in his body to thrum with desire—

Need.

Yet, he had said nothing, given her no clue to his wants or needs. He had been willing to keep things as they were in fear of losing what was there with some careless admission of emotion of a man who had come to see her as more than just an ex-student.

And then Potter—

The rage rose like an old friend.

Potter had gone and told her that there was no room in his heart for Hermione when he was still in love with Lily.

Anger.

Pain.

But he hadn't exactly told her otherwise, had he? No. He'd let her go because he was a coward. Weak.

Yet—

She was in his embrace— his monstrous embrace.

Willingly allowing his true form to enfold her, cradle her—

She could accept the monster. Could she, perhaps, accept the man underneath?

There would be no "cure" for his condition with the Ministry. Perhaps, Molly did him a favour— making it look like he had been consumed by her spell just as so much of Britain.

_Hermione_, he called her name in his mind even as his tongue slowly licked the tears away from her face.

Was she crying for him? Or for herself?

She was asleep, her hands curled into his fur and oily mane.

"Severus," she whispered, her hands tightening in his fur as she pressed her body against his.

_Stay with me, _his soul cried. _I love you._

The beast-people in the next cell started to bicker with each other, making noise and beating on each other. Severus snarled.

Hermione was sleeping.

Do not disturb her.

Do not wake her when she's so close.

With me.

So close— so warm.

The people in the next cell immediately cowed, whimpering in the corner like first years in his class.

_Good._

_Be silent._

_Let her rest._

_With me._

_Always._

His wings tightened around her.

Please, please let her stay.

_Don't leave me again._

_Don't leave me alone._

* * *

"Hermione, the curse could spread to you," Harry said, his brows furrowed.

Hermione sat on the floor bed with Snape's tail wrapped around her waist. His lips curled back from his teeth as he growled at Harry.

Hermione took a bite of her sandwich and held out the other half to Snape.

His lips relaxed as he engulfed the offering with his mouth and used his tongue to drag it inside.

"I'll live with it."

"Hermione—"

"He is important to me, Harry," Hermione said. "He may never love me as I would want him to, but I will not abandon him in his time of need. When he regains his human form, then I will leave— not before. I may be a coward to not be able to face that his love will never be for me, but I will not abandon him when my presence calms him."

Harry winced. "Hermione— I'm sorry."

"For what, Harry?"

"For telling you— for showing you."

Hermione grew very still, her eyes darkening with her Occlumency. "I am doomed to be alone, Harry, but for a time I can be a friend to a man who does not deserve to be punished further for the past."

"I shouldn't have made the decision for you—" Harry said.

"You took away my choices, Harry," Hermione said, "but this is my choice now. This is important to me. He is important to me."

"But the curse—"

"If my being cursed alongside him eases his pain, then I would do it, Harry. He need not love me for me to make that choice."

"Hermione—"

Hermione drank half of her tea and held it out. Snape's tongue lapped at it, dragging the tea into his mouth like a cat.

"The corruption—"

"He had no choice, Harry," Hermione said, her eyes flashing. "I do. He is one of the most brilliant minds out there. He does not deserve to be living in a cage. A cell. I will keep him safe at my cottage, Harry. He can free there. Safe. And when the cure happens, he'll be free to go his own way again."

"Hermione, his condition may not be curable."

Hermione sighed. "Neither is love, Harry."

* * *

At night, Severus realised, he remembered himself.

Always when Hermione was sleeping— tucked against him.

Peaceful.

Natural.

The irony was thick. He came to himself at night when she was near, and he couldn't bear to move and leave her there alone. Not when the feel of her against him felt so right, so natural and real.

The move had been unexpected.

Hermione's cottage near the sea—

It suited her.

He remembered she had invited him to visit so long ago, but he had always made up some excuse not to—

He'd been a fool.

Tattered memories of the day came in a hazy fog— the beast following her around like a monstrous duckling that happened to have wings and a tail.

The beast seemed to know she was the only one that mattered and had no problem telling her with actions—

Even as he had struggled to admit to himself that she was everything and put it into words…

Her sadness hung about her even in sleep. She believed once the beast's form fell away that he would push her away into the friend zone, never to touch in the way he truly wished to. He'd just never shown her—

_How could I have been such a fool?_

She was brilliant.

Talented in spades—

All she had wanted was a chance, but he had never given her an opening.

It was his fault she had left thinking Potter was right.

He had never let her think otherwise.

What would it have taken? A word, three?

_Stay with me._

_I love you._

But now, he was a monster.

He'd been one since the day she was born.

The only thing that had changed was his appearance.

He just looked the part.

"Hermione," he whispered, surprised that his voice came from a twisted muzzle.

Hermione stirred against him, her eyes fluttering open. "Severus?"

His breath caught in his throat as he brushed her cheek with his taloned thumb.

"Stay with me," he breathed. "Not because of this— but because I love you."

She looked at him with wonder. "But—"

"I loved an ideal, a wish, a dream a boy makes and never lets go—" He pressed his forehead to hers, his tongue sliding against his fangs. "But you are real— the piece of myself I didn't know I'd been without until you were gone."

A tear slid down his muzzle. "I was a coward. I wanted you close but pushed you away. I was scared to love you and have you run."

Hermione hugged herself with her arms, rubbing her hands down her arms in a warming motion. "You're an idiot. I was in love with you since the first night we spent outside the hospital. Reading. Just reading. Talking."

"This is what I am," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I cannot offer you humanity."

"You are more human than anyone I know," Hermione said, cupping his muzzle in her hands.

"That's not saying much for humanity," Severus said, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. "Or for you, my addled little witch."

"Your addled little witch," she whispered into his nostrils.

He flared his nostrils as he took in her scent. "I love you," he said, crooning. "I need you. Stay with me. Be with me."

Hermione looked into his black eyes. "For how long?"

"Always," he crooned.

Hermione lay her cheek against the top of his muzzle, her hands caressing the softness of the skin around his lips. "I like that. Always."

"Do you accept my terms, Miss Granger?" His voice was a rumble of distant thunder.

She placed a kiss upon his brow between the eyes. "I accept your terms." Her lips curved into a smile. "Professor."

His wings curved around her, pulling her close. She squeaked in pleasure as she snuggled under his chin and pressed into his chest.

His teeth flashed as he took the soft flesh of her neck between his fangs. Instinct demanded, yet—

He hesitated.

Her hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him in. "Yes," she groaned. "Severus."

Her eyes rolled back in her head as his bite pierced her throat, and his wings cocooned her and a blast of heated magic blasted outward.

* * *

"Mummy! Uncle Harry is here!"

"Joyous," Severus quipped, his lip curling from his yellowed teeth.

Hermione nudged him as she brushed by and opened the door. "Harry. No Ron?"

Harry came in carrying a pale child with a mop of black hair and startling blue eyes. "Ron sends his apologies. He has to go to his mum's parole hearing."

Harry put his child down, and she was immediately dragged off by a giggling bushy-black-haired child. "Come on, Lily! I want to show you my stuffed hippogriff!"

"Wait for me, Stella!"

The two girls went giggling off with each other, ignoring the adults completely.

Harry looked at Hermione with a bemused smile. "Only in your house would a stuffed hippogriff be more exciting than her scary brilliant parents."

"Come sit down, Harry. Dinner is almost ready."

Harry helped set the table before he sat down. He took a deep breath of the sea air and smiled. "How's the hospital, Hermione?"

Hermione chuckled as she set down the roast. "They want to work me to death, but Severus had demanded they hire other healers instead of abusing the few they have— under threat that he forgets how to brew their potions."

Harry half-choked on his tea. "Very influential of you, Sir."

Severus shrugged, scratching his shoulder with one wing. His tail dropped a basket of bread rolls onto the table. "My mate seems to forget how to stand up for herself. Someone has to."

Hermione gave him a soft look, her arms wrapping around his waist as she gave him a tender lick against the side of his muzzle.

Severus growled possessively and wrapped her in his wings.

Luna bounced in the door carrying a large bowl of fruit-jelly salad. "Daddy sends his regards, Hermione," she said, not missing a beat. "Did you know he caught Rita Skeeter with Muggle fly-paper this morning? He enchanted it to nullify magic of the things it caught so he could catch a Glowing Nazerbee."

Hermione blinked. "Rita Skeeter was caught with fly-paper?" Hermione let out a chime-like laugh as she peeled away one of Severus' wings to look out. Their tails remained entwined as she stood next to him. "That's almost as good as when she flew over one of Severus' cauldrons while he was brewing and turned herself into a Brazilian _Atretochoana eiselti." _

"Pity it wasn't permanent," Severus said. "She deserved it."

Harry snorted. "I think spending a year as a penis-worm was probably torture enough don't you think?"

Severus eyed Harry. "Not enough," he said, licking his fangs with his blackened tongue. "She obviously didn't learn her lesson well enough."

Luna shrugged. "Maybe now, though. I mean, Daddy didn't realize he was going to catch an Animagus when he enchanted the magic-draining fly-paper."

Harry's eyes widened. "Wait— it's permanent?"

Luna smiled. "Well, Glowing Nazerbees explode when you catch them unless you nullify their magic. He really wasn't expected to catch an Animagus. Oops?"

Harry busted out laughing. "I can't wait to read the report on that one. Couldn't have happened to a more deserving witch."

"Knock, knock!" a voice rumbled from the doorway.

"Kingsley, you made it!" Hermione said, extracting herself from Severus' protesting embrace as he hugged the Minister for Magic. "Come, have a seat! Tea?"

"Am I British?" Kingsley replied, laughing as she handed him a cup of tea. He sat down at the dinner table with a smile. "It's good to see you both doing well. The tabloids would think you were living a tortured life condemned to live as beasts forever."

"Well, it is torture listening to Hermione trying to argue potion efficacy in relation to moon phase and brewing location."

Hermione huffed at her husband. "Torture getting you out of bed in the morning."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "You don't complain at the time."

"My virgin ears!" Harry complained, plugging them. "I don't need to know about your passionate love life!"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Virgin, my arse. You have three children, so unless you've been spawning them in a cauldron or growing them from pods in your garden, you're delusional."

Harry blushed even as Luna looked proud.

"I happen to think he has a very talented cock."

Dead silence descended as Harry tried to bury himself under the table.

"Speaking of cocks, we do have a young one that is starting to cause trouble. Would you like him, Hermione? I know you were saying you wanted to start raising some chickens for the garden."

"Sure, Luna," Hermione said, shaking her head even as Kingsley snorted into his tea.

Kingsley sipped his tea and took in a deep breath. "Is Stella showing any signs of—" he paused, unsure how to phrase it.

"She's perfectly normal for a witch her age— accidental magic here and there, but no signs of the curse."

Kingsley nodded. "Not that you couldn't make it work, my friends, but the DoM was worried the curse would carry along the generations—the kind of 'gift' that have us pondering even more laws regarding curses and what we consider unforgivable."

"No, Stella's only concerned about being ready for Hogwarts and being sorted into the right house."

"Oh, and what house would that be?" Kingsley asked, chuckling.

"Slytherin."

"Gryffindor."

Kingsley laughed. "Perhaps she would be safer sorted into Ravenclaw and wipe the floor with all the supposed great minds."

Harry rubbed the space between his eyes. "It took me a long time to realise that my father wasn't as great and noble as his mates told me. It took me even longer to realise that his mates weren't exactly unbiased, either, but to curse someone into a monster just because he made my mum cry? If I hadn't heard it from Dumbledore's portrait, I probably would still be denying it."

"I was not a kind person, Potter," Severus said.

"But you didn't deserve _that, _Sir." Harry looked him in the eyes. "I truly believe that, now. You've changed. I've changed. I'm just glad Hermione got us all to get our heads out of our arses."

Severus placed his hand over his mate's. "She's talented like that."

Hermione smiled at him. She turned and yelled up the stairs. "Stella! Lily! Dinner!"

The two girls ran down the stairs and sat down, looking all too smug.

"What are you two up to?" Harry asked, suspicious.

"We're going to dig a trap for a Crumple-Horned Snorkak!"

Luna beamed. "That's a great idea!"

The floo flared to life as Minerva stepped out, dusting herself off. "Am I late for dinner?"

"Never too late, Minerva," Hermione said, gesturing to the spot that was waiting for her.

"Sorry, I am late. I had to deal with a situation with one of the young Longbottom children fusing himself to his potions partner after a cauldron explosion. The new potions teacher is a little beside herself at how much trouble she has to watch out for."

Severus snorted. "This is why I don't teach anymore."

"Pity," Minerva said. "I could use the fear of Merlin scared into them more often."

Hermione laughed. "Ah my friends and those who could not make it today. Thank you for coming to dinner. Let us celebrate our friendship, our families, and our children who are not making cauldrons explode despite many such efforts on the parts of their peers."

"Amen," Minerva said, passing the yeast rolls.

"To family," Harry said, raising a glass.

"To family," Severus replied, raising his glass but looking into Hermione's eyes with no less passion than the night they first sealed their magic together.

They all ate together, sharing their happiness together—

Until Ronald Bilius Weasley tumbled out of the Floo and sputtered, "'Mione! You have to help! My niece found Mum's old grimoire to try and impress Mum and botched the spell. She turned half of London into squirrels!"

Everyone at the table planted their faces on the dining room table with a simultaneous groan.

* * *

And they lived happily squirrelly ever after…

* * *

_**Fin.**_

* * *

**A/N:** This story is a get-well-soon gift for The Dragon and the Rose, who presence is sorely missed.


End file.
